


Eat, Drink, And Be Merry

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Bottoming, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Declarations Of Love, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Fic Exchange, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyle has a Christmas surprise for Lester</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eat, Drink, And Be Merry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for verito295 as part of the primeval_denial Secret Santa exchange 2008, for the prompt 'Christmas dinner'.
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The one that appears in this fic, Lyle, belongs to fredbassett.

When he heard the front door slam Lyle hurried out into the hallway, shutting the kitchen door behind him. Lester was shrugging off his coat, scowling and looking decidedly lacking in festive cheer.

“So it went well, then?” Lyle asked, grinning.

“No, it bloody didn’t!” Lester snapped, slinging the coat on a hook with enough force that Lyle was surprised the fabric didn’t rip. His eyes widened slightly.

“Sorry.”

Lester sighed. “No, I’m sorry, Jon. It isn’t your fault.”

Lyle met him halfway, and his arms slid around Lester’s waist as the other man turned his face up for a kiss. “Want to tell me about it?” he murmured against Lester’s lips.

Lester chuckled humourlessly. “Not really,” he replied. Then he sighed again. “I suppose it was okay, really,” he continued. “Susan and I were civil to each other. We always are, when the kids are around. Still, it made the atmosphere a bit frosty. No, it’s the mother-in-law that’s the real problem. The woman’s never liked me – when Susan and I were still together she was convinced I was putting my work ahead of my marriage. Which I suppose I was, when it came right down to it.” He smiled ruefully.

“Did she cause a scene?” Lyle asked. “The mother-in-law?”

“No,” Lester admitted. “But it was a near thing. I thought I was the master of the disdainful look, but that woman’s got me beat hands down. I could tell she was itching to tell me what she thought of me. And I’m sure Pip picked up on the bad feeling. Never misses a trick, that one.”

But he sounded proud of his daughter, and as Lyle kissed him again he could feel some of his lover’s Family Christmas-induced tension melting away.

The sound of a stomach rumbling interrupted the moment, and Lyle raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of Lester as he drew away.

“All the stress kind of put me off my Christmas dinner,” Lester confessed. “Sorry.”

But Lyle just smirked. “Lucky for me,” he said cryptically. And when Lester looked puzzled he just propelled him gently towards the kitchen, opening the door again as Lester suddenly started sniffing.

“Jon, what have you…?” Then _both_ his eyebrows shot up as he took in the scene that greeted him.

A perfectly prepared Christmas dinner was arrayed on one of the work surfaces, complete with turkey, roast potatoes, parsnips, sausages, Brussels sprouts, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. And on the table was an uncorked bottle of Lester’s favourite, and _very_ expensive, red wine. There was even a festive table-piece and some jolly looking crackers to complete the effect.

“Have you been holding out on me?” Lester asked, giving Lyle a mock-glare. “I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

Lyle pretended to be offended. “I’ll have you know there are many things you don’t know about me,” he said. “I might be a fabulous cook!” Then his expression turned a little sheepish. “Sadly, I’m not,” he admitted. “But catering firms are wonderful things, and I had a sneaking suspicion you might need a pick-me-up after your Christmas day from hell.”

“I knew it!” said Lester triumphantly. But he was smiling. “Thank you, Jon,” he said quietly. “This is wonderful.” Then his stomach rumbled again, and they both laughed. “Now, can we eat? I’m starving!”

*   *   *   *   *

Half an hour later, Lester sat back in his chair, sighing in contentment and taking another appreciative sip of his wine. “Where did you get this, then?” he asked, tipping his glass. “It’s not exactly a vintage you can pick up down at your local Sainsbury’s. And somehow I doubt the caterers had it in stock.”

“I got it from your secret stash,” said Lyle. “The one you think I don’t know about.” He grinned in the face of Lester’s scowl. “Relax. I know you don’t have any of this down there. I got it from a vineyard. Who says I don’t pay attention when you’re pontificating about wine?”

“That’s a bit of a big word for you, isn’t it?” said Lester snidely, but his eyes were sparkling, and Lyle’s grin didn’t falter.

Setting the glass gently back on the table, Lester looked at Lyle for a long moment. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“I didn’t exactly _do_ anything,” replied Lyle, gesturing at the remains of their meal. “It wasn’t exactly hard work picking up the phone to call a caterer.”

“Who says I’m talking about the food?” said Lester. “There’s not many people who would be happy to let their partner disappear on Christmas day to be with their ex-wife and family, while they stayed home alone.”

“Careful, James, you’re in danger of becoming sentimental,” Lyle joked. “And besides, who says I was alone? For all you know I could have invited Ryan and the lads round here for a massive party, and only just finished clearing up the wreckage when you got home.”

But he stood up as he spoke, and moved round the table until he was bending over Lester. “Don’t mention it,” he whispered. Then he moved back as Lester rose from the table, and smiled cheekily. “Now, we’ve done the eat, and we’ve done the drink – how about we move on to the ‘be merry’ part of the evening?”

“Oh yes? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I reckon I could think of a few things…” Lyle said, as he led the way into the living room. “For starters…” Pausing in the doorway, he let Lester walk into his arms, and kissed him, trapping his lover between his body and the doorframe as his hands stroked across Lester’s shoulders.

He felt Lester shiver under him, and abruptly decided that bypassing the living room and going straight to the bedroom might be a _very_ good idea. Lester appeared to have had the same thought, because he was squirming against Lyle insistently, although never letting the kiss falter.

Pulling Lester with him, Lyle stumbled towards the bedroom, reluctantly breaking away a couple of times when looking where he was going became a priority, although never straying far from Lester’s demanding lips.

There was a slight stutter in proceedings when for some reason Lyle couldn’t get the bedroom door open (he would later swear the handle must have been jammed). With an amused sigh, Lester reached around him and turned the handle himself, his lips curving upwards wickedly at Lyle’s smothered embarrassment.

Lester’s hand slid off the handle and on to Lyle’s arse as he pushed the soldier through the now open door, squeezing the flesh through Lyle’s jeans. Lyle retaliated by pulling Lester’s shirt out of the waistband of his trousers and slithering his hands underneath to settle on the cool skin of Lester’s back.

Both men sighed slightly at the skin-on-skin contact, and Lester seemed to take it as his cue to insinuate his free hand under the collar of Lyle’s t-shirt, stroking his thumb across the soft skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

Lyle sighed again, tightening his embrace around Lester and pulling them closer together as they exchanged lazy, yet needy, kisses.

When Lester pushed, he went willingly, and they sank on to the bed together, still tangled up, still fully clothed, but neither in any particular hurry to rush things.

Lester was a comfortable weight on top of him, and as his lover shifted a little Lyle felt skitterings of pleasure dance through his body as their groins rubbed together. Lester must have felt them too, because he moved again, further this time until he was straddling Lyle’s thighs, still kissing him.

This wasn’t how they usually did things. Normally everything was sharper, more demanding, more urgent. But there was something indefinably different about today. Lyle supposed it could have been labelled ‘Christmas Spirit’, but the expression struck him as a little trite. Besides, he wasn’t sure if Lester would know what Christmas Spirit was if it walloped him over the head.

But something _was_ different.  _This_ was different. And thus it felt completely right when he broke off the kiss to look into Lester’s eyes and murmur, “Fuck me.”

Lester looked back at him for a long moment, surprise flickering in his eyes. It wasn’t like either of them to give up the control without even pretending to fight for it. But he must have been feeling the same change that Lyle had, because then he nodded, and bent to kiss Lyle once again, with an intensity that took Lyle’s breath away.

Then he climbed off Lyle and the bed, stripping his clothes off quickly as Lyle did the same, struggling for a moment to kick his jeans off until Lester reached across and helped him by tugging at them sharply.

Lyle started to roll over, but Lester’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“I want to see you,” Lester said, and Lyle nodded.

As Lester opened the drawer of the beside cabinet Lyle lifted his pelvis slightly and shoved a pillow under his hips, spreading his legs so his lover could kneel between them.

“Ready?” Lester asked seriously, and Lyle nodded again, letting a trace of impatience show in his eyes.

Lester smiled, and leaned over to kiss him as he slid a slippery finger into the tight hole. Lyle tensed for a second – no matter how often they did this, there was still that moment of strangeness. But then Lester deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through Lyle’s mouth, and Lyle relaxed unconsciously, letting his lover push deeper.

Then Lester turned his attention to Lyle’s nipples, licking and sucking at them in turn as he gently thrust with his finger, finally catching Lyle’s prostate, making Lyle’s body arch upwards towards the mouth that was torturing him just as much as the finger inside him.

“Fuck…James…”

“Sssh, relax…” Lester pushed another finger into him, scissoring them slowly as his tongue and lips continued their ministrations to the rest of Lyle’s body.

Lyle felt like he was coming apart at the seams, piece by piece. He was breathing in short, panting gasps. They normally took turns fucking each other, but he couldn’t deny that he generally preferred to be on top. Of course, so did Lester – they both had the alpha male mentality, after all. Albeit in slightly different senses.

But now he was wondering if maybe both their preferences were due to the fact that they never took the time to do things properly. They were both too impatient, it was true, too busy battling for dominance and hurrying toward the main event to worry about excessive build-up.

But now he knew they’d been missing out. He wanted Lester to fuck him, but at the same time he didn’t want _this_ to end. It was like sweet torture, Lester’s fingers stroking his prostate as his mouth kissed and nipped at his skin. He writhed against the mattress as nonsense dropped from his lips, not quite sure what he was trying to say.

Then Lester’s mouth was against his ear. “Are you ready?” he asked softly, and Lyle knew a split second of disappointment before he nodded shakily in response.

He whined as Lester withdrew his fingers, and then watched impatiently as the other man slicked his cock before shuffling forward a little, lining himself up.

Then the blunt head of Lester’s cock was pushing into him, slowly at first, and then a little faster as Lyle relaxed around the intrusion, until Lester was balls-deep in his lover’s arse, and both of them were breathing raggedly in tandem with one another.

Lyle hooked his legs around Lester’s hips, crossing his ankles so they were locked together. “James…” he pleaded hoarsely.

Lester’s eyes flashed as he started rocking, thrusting shallowly as he tried to find the right angle. And when he did Lyle’s eyes rolled up into his head as his cock jerked. This was definitely _not_ how it had been before.

Blindly, he reached for his cock, only to feel his hand slapped away and then Lester’s own hand close around it. He moaned as Lester started stroking in time to his thrusts.

“Jon…” There was a demanding note in Lester’s voice, and Lyle opened his eyes to find his lover watching him intently. He held Lester’s gaze as Lester continued to stroke and thrust, the eye-contact making everything somehow even _more_ intense, if that was possible.

“Jon…” Lester sounded desperate now, and his thrusts were becoming jerkier and more ragged. And then he was coming deep inside Lyle, his hand tightening on Lyle’s cock hard enough to make Lyle’s own orgasm sweep over him unexpectedly. Lester groaned as Lyle’s body squeezed around him, prolonging his shudders. Then he slumped forward slightly, his hands resting on Lyle’s thighs as he panted harshly.

Lyle reached out a shaking hand, grabbing Lester’s arm to pull him down further until his head was resting on Lyle’s shoulder. Lester stretched out his legs to make himself more comfortable, the movement allowing his spent cock to slip from Lyle’s arse, although Lyle kept his legs wound around his lover.

He could already hear Lester’s breath deepening and evening out, and he dropped a kiss on the top of Lester’s head, sighing in contentment before letting sleep claim him.

*   *   *   *   *

Rubbing his eyes, Lyle entered the kitchen to find Lester already there, seated at the table reading a newspaper. The table itself still held the detritus of the previous night’s meal, but most of it had been shoved aside to make way for breakfast, and more importantly, coffee.

“Oh god, yes,” Lyle muttered.

Lester surveyed him briefly over the top of the page as he poured a cup of steaming black coffee, but then returned to reading what appeared to be another story about the current financial crisis as Lyle moved to stand behind him.

“You know, it’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder,” Lester commented after a few seconds.

“I know.” Lyle grinned, even though he knew Lester couldn’t see him, and continued reading.

Sighing, Lester rustled the pages in annoyance, and went back to his article.

Lyle let a hand drift out and settle on Lester’s shoulder as they both read, a finger stroking the side of his neck softly. He could tell Lester was trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed, but the faint quivering of the skin under his fingers was giving his lover away.

Leaning forward as if to get a closer look at the newspaper, Lyle placed his mouth against Lester’s ear. “I love you,” he murmured quietly.

All pretence of newspaper reading was abruptly dropped as Lester turned his head to meet Lyle’s lips, the kiss slow and sweet.

“I love you, Jon,” Lester whispered back. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

“Well, I can’t pretend it isn’t a chore sometimes,” said Lyle, adopting a martyred air.

That surprised a laugh out of Lester, and for a moment they smiled at each other, content. Then Lyle took another sip of his coffee, and asked, “What’s for breakfast?”

“Oh no.” Lester shook his head. “No breakfast for you until you’ve cleared this lot up.” He gestured at the plates and glasses on the table, and the stacks of dirty pots and dishes next to the sink.

Right at that moment the door buzzer rang. Lyle grinned. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I told the caterers to come back this morning for the clean-up operation.”

Lester’s nose wrinkled. “And what are we supposed to do while they’re cluttering up my kitchen?”

The buzzer rang again, and Lyle went to answer it. “Oh, I don’t know,” he called back. “I’m sure we could come up with something!”


End file.
